


You Will Be Found

by BabyGenius



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Alex Mercer Character Study (Julie and the Phantoms), Alex Mercer Has Anxiety (Julie and the Phantoms), Bobby | Trevor Wilson Character Study (Julie and the Phantoms), Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Luke Patterson Character Study (Julie and the Phantoms), Luke Patterson is Autistic (Julie and the Phantoms), Reggie Peters Character Study (Julie and The Phantoms), Reggie Peters has Auditory Processing Disorder (Julie and the Phantoms), Sunset Curve, Where we actually analyze his character and don’t demonize a traumatized teenager, good bobby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:49:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28139454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyGenius/pseuds/BabyGenius
Summary: A character study, from the four boys of Sunset Curves’ point of view. Luke is autistic, Reggie has auditory processing disorder, Alex has anxiety, and Bobby is the dad friend. Where they find each other, and their family in one another, and how their relationship works.
Relationships: Alex & Bobby | Trevor Wilson & Luke Patterson & Reggie, Alex & Luke Patterson & Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms), Luke Patterson & Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms), Sunset Curve - Relationship
Comments: 21
Kudos: 108





	You Will Be Found

**Author's Note:**

> Lol I’m back with a one shot. Which will hopefully be a two shot because I wanna do one from the girls’ (Julie, Carrie, and Flynn) pov as well, since I absolutely love them. Anyway, those tags (bar Alex having anxiety since that’s canonically confirmed) are personal headcanons you will have to pry from my cold, dead hands, because I see so many of my symptoms and other peoples’ in them that it’s impossible not to hc it. 
> 
> The plan is to get a decent amount of writing done over Christmas break, and hopefully get out the second part to my OPOV (outside pov) story, Rumor Has It, where the school knows there’s something funky up with Julie Molina and her band and at least half the student population bets it’s coz she’s a witch. 
> 
> Either way, I hope you all enjoy, thank you for clicking and reading!
> 
> The title is taken from a song from Dear Evan Hansen, btw, called “You Will Be Found”

**Reggie**

Reggie wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t particularly slow, either, no matter how many people seemed to think so (his parents certainly did).

It’s just that sometimes things took a moment to process. Someone would say something and he would respond seconds later, when the words finally gained meaning and he realized they were talking to him.

He wasn’t stupid. Maybe he was a bit slow, but not in the way people seemed to think (not in the _dumb_ way).

People didn’t listen to him when he tried to tell them, though, so eventually he stopped trying. He figured he probably sounded like a broken record—annoying after a while and better turned off.

He stopped trying, since his parents were too busy yelling at each other or sending each other frigid glares from across to room to pay him much attention, anyway. His siblings couldn’t do much either, since they all had other things going on.

Reggie went through school and kept his head down. Eventually he stopped asking questions. Besides, if he was really as smart as people didn’t think he was then he should be able to figure it out, right? He couldn’t be smart if he couldn’t figure out simple mathematical concepts, or if he found himself trying desperately to catch up in a conversation.

He found someone, in fourth grade, though. Luke Patterson, the kid who was all smiles and was often in his head more than people thought Reggie was.

Luke was kind of blunt, but Reggie didn’t mind. Luke recognized that Reggie just thought a bit differently, processed a bit slower, but that when he did process things his brain worked just as fast as others’.

For once in his life, Reggie had a friend who _understood_ , who didn’t rush to put words in his mouth or hurry his responses. He had a friend who would wait patiently while his brain finally heard what had been said, when he finally comprehended what he was reading.

He had someone who didn’t think of him as the stupid class clown.

Alex joined their group in high school, when Luke and Reggie recognized him sitting on his own, jiggling his knee and drumming his fingers. They only had to nudge each other to know they were both thinking the same thing, really, and they both went and plopped their trays on the table.

Alex had looked up, his eyes wide, and stuttered out his name and a greeting. Luke smiled in that easy-going way he had and Reggie grinned. They sat in silence for the most part, but by the end Alex seemed somewhat more comfortable with them.

They sat next to him every day after that.

Alex was a good addition to their group. He was also patient. Sometimes Reggie could tell when Alex thought he had done or said something foolish, but he didn’t mind because that wasn’t the same as Alex thinking _he_ was foolish.

Reggie wasn’t stupid, though he had gone through life being told he was. He had a set of brothers that said otherwise, that _knew_ otherwise, and, though it had taken death to get one, he also had a sister who knew it.

**Luke**

Luke wasn’t rude. Not intentionally, at least. It’s just that people…they didn’t click. Those big meanings behind small movements were things he often didn’t catch. He wasn’t rude. He _liked_ people, but his focus was on music.

His parents didn’t really understand that. They didn’t _understand_ that music made _sense_ in a way that humans—people—did not. They had given him that guitar (an oddly wrapped object stuffed under the Christmas tree and the twang of strings when he moved it—hours every day spent playing his fingers raw until they built up the strength that he didn’t feel it anymore) to give him a hobby to do, nothing more. His parents—his mom—hadn’t expected him to fall headfirst into learning it until he could focus on nothing else.

Luke didn’t think he was a bad person, not really, but it was hard to make friends when he seemed to repeatedly step on toes without knowing it. He wouldn’t admit it out loud (because he had no one to admit it to), but he was lonely, even if he could entertain himself with his music most of the time. It would have been much nicer to have someone to make music _with_ , though.

He did find someone, finally, in fourth grade. Reginald (Reggie) Peters. Reggie wasn’t like the other kids in the best way possible. He made Luke laugh, and he either didn’t care or didn’t realize when Luke did something “normal” kids didn’t. Sometimes Reggie didn’t understand things, but it was okay because Luke didn’t understand things sometimes either.

Reggie had this sort of… _energy_ , around him, that the other kids didn’t quite match, and he was constantly moving (Luke kept up with him pretty easily though, and Reggie said the same thing about Luke’s energy so they were evenly matched). They attached at the hip and Luke never thought anything of the fact that he always had Reggie over but Reggie never had him over. It didn’t really matter because they always had each other and that was what was important.

Luke finally had someone who didn’t think he was a brat.

Alex joined their group in high school. Luke had nudged Reggie and they hadn’t exchanged any words, instead going and sliding onto the seats at the same table as the hunched over boy whose entire stature said “don’t notice me”. Alex didn’t speak much, if at all, that first day, but Reggie and Luke kept at it, sitting at the table every day and waiting for Alex to get sick of them and tell them to fuck off.

He didn’t, so eventually they stopped expecting to hear it.

Alex was their common sense. Sure, he did stupid things just like Reggie and Luke, but it was a different kind of stupid thing, so it didn’t count as much. Alex was also able to help Luke navigate social things, and Luke found that he understood things a little better (and when he didn’t, Alex or Reggie were there to help).

Losing his parents (well, his parents losing him, but in this case there wasn’t much difference) hit him hard. The boys helped him with it, and eventually so did Julie. She had a bit more difficulty understanding his…eccentricities (as he knew them)…but she became accustomed to them eventually. She was also never afraid to call him out and explain things to him when she realized his actions weren’t out of malice.

He hadn’t had many friends early on in life, but that was probably just because life was preparing him to have better friends than most people were ever able to make—and he had more than one.

**Alex**

Alex was anxious. All the time, really. His parents had never understood what the fuss was, but then they wouldn’t understand him liking boys, either, so it wasn’t much of a surprise. It wasn’t like he _tried_ to think of worst possible scenarios all the time.

Alex became really good at watching, though. He stayed in the background, snatches of conversation drifting in and out his ear while he tried desperately not to draw attention to himself. Don’t churn the water, don’t disturb the bees’ nest. Nevermind that he couldn’t help thinking _what if?_ what if he took the jump, put a ripple in the water? Every time he considered this, though, his mind raced with all the horrible and embarrassing ways it could go wrong, so he wound up not doing it.

Sure, this meant he was unfortunately lacking in the friends department, but that was fine, really ( ~~no it wasn’t~~ ). He was his own company (and he had his younger sister), and whenever he felt like he was lacking something he slammed out his anxiety and frustration on his drum set.

Alex figured he probably wasn’t going to find friends until college or whatever job he wound up with, since he hadn’t found any in elementary or middle school. It’s not like his anxiety was going away, and by now everyone already had their own friend groups. It would have been more awkward to join one now than it was before, and he wasn’t about to try. With his luck he would mess it up and become the laughing stock of the school, and the thought of that made his hands go clammy and his heart pound like it had somewhere to go.

Alex had little hope for high school, too. There were horror stories about cliques and bullying, and as he walked around he saw that, though not completely true, they weren’t entirely wrong, either. College was supposed to be more chill. He could ~~be lonely~~ handle it until then.

His parents grew somewhat distant (mainly his dad), and Alex put it up to them wanting to “give him space for stereotypical teenage angst” (every time his brain tried to say _what if they know? Whatifwhatifwhatif_ —he tried to quash the thoughts, besides, he had done a decent job of being “straight” right? Right?). They still had family dinner almost every day, the very, very occasional movie night, and there was, of course, church, but he spent more time in his room or outside than he did with his family (his parents—he still made time for his sister a few hours a day).

It was two weeks into high school, though, that things changed. He was sitting alone, like he had been, when two boys (and wow they were both cute) set their trays onto the table as if they had been doing it every day.

“Luke.”

“I’m Reggie!”

Alex muttered out his name, and they both grinned at him and started eating. Alex spent most of lunch wondering what was going on—had he done something? Did these people know him from a class? Oh no what if they had an assignment together and he forgot? (That wasn’t like him, but it _could_ happen.) They didn’t ask him for anything at all, though, and Alex found his heart pounding a little less as lunch went on. Eventually he was put at ease enough to take a few bites of the cafeteria slop before the lunch bell rang.

He smiled as lunch ended, but didn’t expect it to happen the next day. They were probably just being nice. Or pitying him.

They did come back the next day, though. And the next and the next and the next. Alex kept his bewilderment to himself, terrified that asking them about it would make them leave. They kept up a steady string of conversation throughout lunch, and Alex learned things about them. He had to keep reminding Luke to finish chewing before speaking, and Reggie occasionally took a second to respond with a witty one-liner but they were well worth the wait (especially because they typically resulted in Luke scowling at him like a puppy who’d had its snack taken away, and c’mon he can’t be the only one that thought that was cute).

Luke sometimes lacked social tact, or went on long tangents about music and _connecting_ with people, but Alex thought it was endearing (though how Luke could _constantly_ relate things to music confuddled him, but he figured it was just a Luke thing). Reggie was sometimes slow on the uptake, but other times he understood something much faster than everybody else and was stuck being the one that had to explain it.

Alex expected them to say that it had been a joke, or for their other friends that they surely had to come back and for them to leave him. The possibilities always nagged at the forefront of his mind, but each day it was easier to push that worry aside until it was almost never present.

They were great friends, too. A second family. His sister loved them and they loved his sister, which was an added bonus, and they became closer when they made the band.

Luke held his hand as they both cried in the back of the ambulance, Reggie making a breathy wisecrack that Alex couldn’t remember. At least Reg went out with the remains of a smile on his face. Luke continued to comfort him as he needed it, and their dynamic didn’t change much after death.

Julie was a new, but appreciated variable, and she quickly took up the older sibling role (even though they were technically older) to share with Alex.

He found Willie, too, so maybe this death thing wasn’t _too_ bad.

**Bobby**

Bobby never had many issues making friends (friendly acquaintances). He was good with people. He knew he was a little selfish, but that was fine because he still _cared_ about those who managed to get close to him, and weren’t most people a little selfish, anyway?

Most people in the school were at least able to put his name to his face, and Bobby didn’t mind that most of the time. He was in several friend circles, even though he wasn’t necessarily and integral part of said circle, and he was fine with that. Being on his own had never really bothered him, and he got plenty of social interaction.

He was kind of bored, though. He did rhythm guitar and a few other things to keep himself occupied when outside of school.

He went through freshman year this way, as well as most of sophomore year. Halfway through the second trimester, he saw fliers up in the hallways. A band was seeking a rhythm guitarist, and would have auditions after school.

He didn’t have anything else to do, and a band sounded pretty fun, so he went to audition.

Bobby couldn’t help but smirk when the three boys huddled after his performance, their whispering harsh but indiscernible. They turned around, and he had to restrain a laugh at the giddy looks on their faces.

“Welcome to Sunset Curve!” The lead singer—Luke?—cheered, bouncing in excitement.

Bobby smiled.

Being in a band, naturally, would bring said band closer together. It came with practicing all the time. What Bobby didn’t expect was just how close these guys were, and they welcomed him wholeheartedly. He had to do a mental readjustment sometimes, and he almost snapped at Luke for something before realizing that Luke hadn’t meant it that way. Instead, he looked at Alex, who nodded knowingly, and turned back to Luke to explain why what he had said was considered…tactless. Luke’s eyes widened as he apologized, and Bobby realized he would probably be helping with this from now on. He didn’t mind.

He found himself taking up something of a dad role. Alex was the one who fretted and worried about everyone—it seemed he had everything under the sun in that fanny pack of his—while Bobby was the one looking after the more physical things like practice places, band performances, social skills, etc. he encouraged Alex when he needed it, let Luke infodump about songs he was working on or chord arrangements, and helped Reggie understand the things he didn’t get. When Reggie didn’t quite hear something properly or process it quite right he would write it down wordlessly and push the paper to Reggie.

It was little things like that, but Bobby loved it. He loved his time being occupied by things and he loved the relationships he had formed with the boys, relationships that were so much more _real_ than all the other acquaintances he had made at school.

He had found his people, and he couldn’t be happier.

Then they died.

He hadn’t immediately known, like they say you would in the movies and books.

No, he thought they had gotten lost. He had been upset with them for being so late ( ~~on tonight of all nights~~ ), and then he’d received a call. His hands went numb, his heart pounding in disbelief.

“Hello? Mr. Wilson?” The man on the other end asked.

Bobby recovered himself enough to thank the man for telling him, hanging up before any other words could be exchanged.

Bobby and Luke’s parents organized the funerals, Reggie’s siblings helped and Alex’s younger sister tried to. Bobby figured that maybe he could honor them, and he grabbed Luke’s journal, playing one of the songs at an open bar night as tribute. A producer walked up to him, and Bobby wasn’t well-versed enough to realize he should have a lawyer, or that the man he had signed on with had included in the fine print that he couldn’t “set himself up to fail by mentioning a band or story as tragic as that behind those poor boys”.

By the time he was out of the contract, he had a daughter, a _reputation_ , and he couldn’t come clean because that would chase after Carrie forever.

It was years before Bobby— _Trevor_ , it was _Trevor_ now—gathered up the strength to visit the boys’ families. They understood, though, and in a way that just made it worse.

Bobby tried to move on, but that was kind of hard to do when he was pretty sure they were haunting him. He would recognize Reggie’s handwriting anywhere, after all, though he had no clue what the _hell_ it was doing on his _bathroom mirror twenty five years after they died_.

Maybe he was hallucinating, that was it. It must be.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Writing like this is interesting and fun, though I typically use it for introspective pieces about myself (and one about Star Trek, which is published on my account), but I figured I’d give it a try. 
> 
> For those of you who think it seems less streamlined (ha) or edited than usual, that’s because I didn’t do much editing. I wanted it to keep the raw energy it had. That said if you find any typos, those I will fix. I typed a decent portion of this on my phone so there’s bound to be a few. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed! If you wanna make my day better, drop a comment (those are my favorite) or a kudos! Or! You can visit and yell at me on one of my tumblrs:
> 
> my main: blerghfish  
> my jatp sideblog: julie-and-the-phat-ones  
> my in-character ask-blog: askcaleb-themagician 
> 
> I hope you’re all staying healthy over the holidays, and that everything is going well for you!


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